Tempt Not a Desperate Woman
by Nachos4Children
Summary: Dress rehearsals can be long and boring, but clarinetist Bella and demi-soloist Carlisle find a way to pass the time.


I was doing some clean up in my email and discovered over 700 unread emails in my FF folder - emails regarding new chapter alerts, favorite authors, reviews, etc. I went through them and was overwhelmed by the amount of support and love I was given during my time as writer. While I pretty much had put my pen away after Clementines was finished, a few years ago, I was approached by a wonderful woman - Betti - who asked me to contribute to a compilation fundraiser for a dear friend of hers who was dying of cancer called "Stand Up for Katalina." How could I say no? The one-shots were of a various pairings and many of them had a dance theme as Katalina herself was a dancer. I submitted this fic and vowed never to look back, but after seeing all the reviews that I never replied to and all the love I never returned, I thought this might be a good way to give a little something back. Sadly, Katalina succumbed to cancer, so this is also a good way to remember her. That said, I want to thank Bettigefect for cashing in a favor and to bornonhalloween for beta'ing this story. I dedicate this fic to everyone who beat cancer, like my mother, and to all those who lost their fight, like my father. I hope you enjoy it.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight or any of it's charcters. Never have never will.

I gently rolled my head from side to side and gingerly massaged the back of my neck with the tips of my fingers. "What time do we have be here tomorrow night?" I asked my stand partner, Garrett, who was sitting next to me, shaking out his hands.

"I think call is at 7:30, if curtain's at 8:00," he answered.

I closed my eyes and stifled a massive yawn. "It's gonna be a looooong night," I groaned, catching my clarinet just before it slid off my lap. This wasn't really my kind of thing - playing in a pit orchestra for the ballet of _Romeo &amp; Juliet_. I was a lowly tenth-grade English teacher, not a professional musician. Sure, I enjoyed playing the clarinet and was blessed to be pretty darn good at it, but to be honest, performances always made me nervous. I was only doing this as a favor to my friend Angela. I was her alternate for the Pacific Northwest Symphony Orchestra, and considering she had just given birth to a healthy baby boy only three weeks ago, I couldn't say no.

"I hear that," Garrett nodded as he adjusted his reed slightly. "But luckily we're due for a decent break here soon - these five minute ones are bullshit. I can't go outside, smoke a cigarette, and be back in five minutes!"

"I'm surprised some of the dancers haven't staged a coup yet," I giggled.

Garrett snorted. "I guess there must be enough Diet Coke backstage to tide them over until then. If there's enough time, wanna run with me to Big Mike's to get a bite?"

"Thanks, but no thanks. Ever since they slashed the music budget, I'm a brown-bag-it kind of girl. I brought a sandwich."

"Awww. But what if it was my treat?"

"That's sweet of you, but really, it's okay - I don't want my sandwich to get stale."

"Oh come on, how long has it been since a man took you out to dinner?" he teased.

I squinted one eye and tapped my chin with my index finger a few times. "Hmmm...I broke off my engagement with Edward how long ago?"

"Jake never took you out for dinner?"

"Only if you count ordering pizza while I watched him work on his motorcycle in his garage as 'dinner.'"

Just then, Dr. Jones, the conductor, rapped his baton on the music stand. He nodded to the stage manager, and she called out for the dancers to take their places. As the dancers hurried onto the stage, I straightened up in my seat, gave my reed a few licks for good measure, and prayed that I'd be home in time to watch Conan.

xXxXx

After what felt like hours, we finally got our much-needed extended break. I had to laugh as Garrett took off like his ass was on fire to go smoke and drive to Big Mike's. Thank God he was here-I don't know how I would survive the rest of the evening without him. Sometimes musicians can be so pretentious.

The early fall weather had been gorgeous so far, so I thought it would be nice to eat my sandwich out by the giant white rocks just north of the performance center. It would be quiet there, and I'd be free from interruptions. I made my way out of the pit and decided to swing by the dressing rooms to snag a Dasani from the machine.

I was annoyed to see the line for the soda machine was a good fifteen or so dancers deep. Reluctantly, I took my place behind the last person and hoped there'd be something left that I'd be able to drink. Eating a sandwich before playing an instrument was bad enough in the first place, but there was no way in hell I was going let something like that sickly sweet orange Fanta get inside my baby. I glanced down at my watch and sighed-only fifty-two minutes left. But then, I caught something out of the corner of my eye.

Clad in form-fitting black dance...pants?...tights?...well, whatever they called them...was quite possibly the tightest, most beautiful ass I had ever seen. The fabric all but disappeared between his cheeks to highlight two perfectly round hemispheres, except for slight indentations that appeared on either side when he shifted his weight from one leg to other-muscular, yet impossibly soft-looking at the same time. This was the kind of ass women dreamed about-the one they only wished their husband or boyfriend had. My ex-fiance, Edward, had had a pretty darn good derriere, or so I had thought. But it was nothing compared to the glorious, end all-be all of asses standing in front of me.

I groaned internally - it had been so long since I'd had any kind of sexual encounter that I'd almost forgotten what it was like to instantly desire someone. Instinctually clenching my hands into fists, I fought the urge to reach out and run my hands over the smooth, pale skin covering the muscles of his perfectly V-shaped back. I didn't even care what the man's face looked like - he could be Abe Vigoda's twin brother for all I knew. But when my eyes traveled down to that taut little tushie, my lady bits woke up from their hibernation, and apparently they were starving!

My curiosity was finally sated when one of the other dancers asked him a question, and he turned enough for me to see his face - the dude was handsome. More than handsome actually, he was probably the most beautiful man I'd ever seen: dirty blond hair, grayish blue eyes, and a killer smile to boot - holy cow, was that a British accent? This had to be the guy playing Romeo. He just had to be.

I was well aware that I was staring, maybe even drooling as I admired it, but who cared? Romeo's ass was the sun, and I was a sunflower - destined to follow it all day, every day for the rest of my life. I mean, weren't ballet dancers used to people looking at their butts all the time anyway? Kind of like how a woman with breast implants will always elicit a certain amount of ogling from men...and women, too, I guess.

I felt like whimpering when Romeo finally reached the front of the line and bought himself, of course, a Diet Coke-it had been a lovely show. Craning my neck as I watched him take his asset away, I dropped my quarters into the slot. If only they sold caffeinated water in our vending machines-I could really use the juice to get through the rest of the evening. By the time I was done, that beautiful bum had disappeared into a sea of other slightly less perfect bums. Bummer.

I quickly flitted down the cold, gray corridor and pushed the heavy back door open before making sure to wedge a small rock between it and the frame so as to avoid the long walk back to the front of the building. The sun had been setting earlier and earlier every day, and I could just make out a faint orangish-pink streak it had left behind. The fresh air felt good against my skin, a little chilly, but I didn't mind-my light jacket was more than enough to keep me warm. I made my way in the semi-darkness toward the square-cut rocks as the damp grass tickled my exposed toes through my sandals.

As I neared my destination, I noticed a hooded figure perched on of the larger horizontal-lying ones. "Fuck," I cursed under my breath. I hesitated, not sure who would be sitting out there-a college kid perhaps? A homeless person? Psychotic killer?

Just as I started to turn back, the figure spoke.

"Sorry! If you want to hang out here, that's cool. I can go somewhere else until rehearsal starts again."

The voice was male and somewhat familiar, and it very obviously belonged to someone involved in the production, so I could probably at least rule out that the person was homeless. Psychotic killer though...that was a different story.

"That's okay; you were here first," I called over my shoulder. "There are some benches just on the other side of the building."

"Are you sure?" he called back. "I don't mind sharing-unless you want to be alone."

I had to pause and think to myself for a moment. I didn't have a husband, didn't have a boyfriend, didn't have a roommate, didn't have a pet-not even a stupid fish. So did I really find it necessary to be alone for the next forty-seven minutes? Wasn't I alone enough already? Besides, I needed something to take my mind off of Handsome Hot Ass for a while and this guy sounded nice enough...and was probably gay, so I what did I have to lose?

I put on a polite smile and turned back toward the rocks. "You sure? Maybe YOU want to be alone."

He chuckled softly before sliding off of the rock and closing the distance between us. "No, that's not it at all. I just saw this spot from the bus as we arrived, and it looked like a good place to kill some time. Hey, aren't you the clarinetist?"

I stumbled as he came into the light, and drew a sharp breath inward. Holy shit, it was Romeo - Mr. Handsome Hot Ass himself! Granted, he was now wearing an oversized, worn-out hoodie, but it was him. This was too much of a coincidence-someone had to be playing a prank on me, right? No way he was standing in front of me right now, smiling and expecting me to answer his question. I prayed to God that it was dark enough outside so that he couldn't see the flush of crimson that was most definitely taking over my face. "I'm, I'm sorry, what?" I manage to sputter.

"You play the clarinet, right? Didn't I see you with a clarinet earlier?"

"Oh, yes! Right - that's me," I exclaimed way too loudly. "And you must be Romeo."

"Romeo?" he repeated, throwing his head back and let out a laugh. "Hardly! I'm Paris, well, my name's Carlisle, actually. But I'm dancing the part of Paris. You know-the guy who never gets the girl."

"Ahhh, yes - Paris, I am familiar." Before I could stop myself, I clutched my hands over my heart and took a few staggering steps. "'O! I am slain-If thou be merciful, Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.'"

"Yeeeaahh," Carlisle slowly drawled, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "I'm not so familiar with the lines, so much as I am just the dancing."

"Fair enough."

"So what are you-an actress or something?" he asked, motioning toward the rocks for me to follow him.

"Me? An actress?" I snorted as I started to climb. "Hell no! What would make you think that?"

"Well, the only people I know who go around quoting Shakespeare are actors for one. And for two, you're prettier than any actress I've ever seen."

I felt my cheeks flame hot once more as he parked himself next to me - did he just say I was pretty? "Okay, number one-just because I can quote a little Shakespeare here and there doesn't mean I can act. It just means that I've read _Romeo and Juliet_ about a hundred times. And number two...thank you."

"You're welcome, and I mean it - you're really beautiful."

"Oh, stop it," I giggled, kicking my heels against the hard granite as I started to unwrap my sandwich, offering him half when I caught him eyeing it hungrily. "I'm sure you've seen ballerinas way prettier than me."

"No, never. And I've been dancing for a long time. What's your name?"

"Bella," I said. "Bella Swan."

Even in the darkness, I could feel his eyes light up. "Swan as in Swan Lake?"

"I guess you could say that, but I'm not nearly as graceful. I took ballet for like, six months when I was little, but I sucked, so I quit. To keep me busy, my mom insisted I learn an instrument. And here I am today."

"So you're a professional musician?"

I nearly choked on a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly. "What? Oh God, no. You can't make money playing the clarinet for a living! I'm a teacher, actually."

"Oh wow - what do you teach?"

"Tenth-grade English. But the twelfth-grade English teacher is retiring at the end of the year, and I really hope they'll offer me her job."

Carlisle took a sip of his Diet Coke. "Why's that?"

"Why would I rather teach seniors?" I repeated, covering my mouth with one hand while I chewed. "Better curriculum choices. The students are a bit more mature by the time they're seniors, or so I've heard. Plus, they graduate two weeks before the end of the school year, which means I essentially get two more weeks for summer."

"That's definitely a plus."

"So..." I said, eager to know more about the man sitting next to me licking grape jelly off of his fingers-oh, the dirty things that raced through my mind in the span of half a second. "How long have you been with the Stuttgart Ballet?"

"About three years. I was dancing with another company in Germany when I applied and the Stuttgart offered me a demi-soloist position."

"Oh wow, that's cool. So will you be a principle someday-dancing the part of Romeo?"

"Me? No way, I'm not interested."

I finished the last bite of my sandwich and looked at him, curious. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to eat, sleep, and breathe ballet like the principles do," he replied and took a long swig of his soda. "I love dancing, don't get me wrong, but I've seen what they put themselves through mentally and physically to stay at the top. You've seen _Black Swan_, right?"

"Uhh, yeah," I grinned.

"Well, that's not me. I'm not gonna torture myself for a chance to play Romeo. I'll just take my demi-soloist parts like Paris, and that's good enough for me."

"I see. So how did you start dancing?"

"I'm not really sure," he shrugged. "I can't really remember a time when I didn't. Like you, I guess my mum wanted to channel my energy somewhere other than destroying the house."

"Oh my God, that's adorable."

"What? What's adorable?"

"You said, '_mum_,'" I replied, then somehow managed to gigglesnort - much to my chagrin. "You sound so...British!"

"Is that a bad thing?" Carlisle raised a teasing eyebrow at me as I cleared my throat.

"No, it's a good thing. It's actually a very sexy thing," I added, lowering my voice a little. I'd never considered myself good at flirting, but if I was gonna try it, I might as well pull out all the stops. Hell, maybe I'd even bat my lashes a bit. Girls still did that, right?

He made an odd sound - almost like a whimper - and I smiled to myself. Maybe I was better at it this than I thought.

"An accent like that can probably get you any girl you want," I continued, trying my best to 'purr' like they always say in those cheesy romance novels. "Tell me, do you have a girlfriend?" _Please don't say, 'I have a boyfriend.' Please don't say, 'I have a boyfriend.' Please don't say, 'I have a boyfriend,'_ I chanted internally.

It was getting darker, but I could tell by the way he let out his breath that he was smiling. "No, I don't have a girlfriend."

Well shit. That didn't really answer my question. But he must have been a mind reader because just as I was trying to think of a tactful way to ask if he played for the other team, he offered the information on his own accord.

"And contrary to what you might be thinking, I'm not married, and I'm not gay either."

"I didn't-" I started to protest, then sheepishly stopped myself. "Okay, I was totally worried you might be gay."

"Why would that worry you? Don't like gay people?"

"Of course not! That's ridiculous!" Even though I knew he was probably kidding, I couldn't help feeling a little defensive. "That is NOT what I meant, and I think you know that."

He nudged my leg with his. "I know. I was just teasing, but why would my sexual orientation be of any concern to you? Unless..."

"Unless...what?" I said, nudging him back.

"I think you fancy me."

I shook my head and clucked my tongue a few times. "There you go, throwing out those adorable British-isms again."

"I do do that. But you're still avoiding my question."

"Only because I think you know the answer to that as well."

He leaned toward me and held his lips to my ear. "Yeah, and I wanna hear you say it," he breathed.

Well, that definitely changed the teasing, flirty tone of our conversation. Suddenly, my heart was pounding harder than that one time I drank a Red Bull before finals. If he was starting to feel anything like I was starting to feel, things were going to combust eventually. It was equal parts scary and exciting.

I took a deep breath and lightly pressed my fingers against his cheek and turned his face the other way to whisper in his ear. ""Okay, then. I...fancy you. You and your beautiful ass. I haven't stopped thinking about it since I saw it."

I knew I should feel ridiculous - saying something so cheesy - but for reasons unknown to me, this felt...good. Maybe it was because I'd always been such a Mary Sue all my life and now I was finally doing something considered "taboo." Or maybe it was simply because I hadn't gotten laid in nearly four years. All I knew was that I hadn't felt this electrically excited in a long, long time.

"Well, thank you." His hand moved to the inside of my thigh and gave a little squeeze sending a shiver all the way up my spine. "And so what about you? Is there a Mr. Swan at home waiting for you?"

"Nope. It's just little ol' me. And for the record, I'm as straight as an arrow."

"Good to know," he replied, moving his hand a little higher. My lust immediately hit a spike, and I couldn't help but squirm. He had to have felt it because he continued. "I have a confession to make."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"I fancy you, too. Aside from how gorgeous you are - from the moment I saw you earlier teasing me with that clarinet, I haven't stopped thinking about you."

My heart shifted into high gear knowing that he had been thinking about me, but I pulled back a little, just a tad confused. "What do you mean, 'teasing you'?"

"Oh come on, you know...what you were doing...with your mouth," he replied, pantomiming licking a reed while twisting his hands like I do when I'm trying to adjust my intonation. I burst out laughing-I couldn't help it. I had never realized how incredibly sexual that looked. If I didn't know any better, it looked like he was giving someone a blowjob - albeit a pretty awkward and increasingly aggressive-looking one.

"Stop! Just stop!" I begged through my laughter. "Please, oh my God, please never do that again."

"Hey missy, you did it first!"

I wiped away the tears forming in my eyes and shook my head. "Are you kidding me? I wasn't trying to simulate oral sex-that's just what we clarinetists do! My buddy Garrett was doing the exact same thing, and he's not even remotely into the cock! I mean, every time you bend over and touch your toes, are you trying to seduce someone with your ass?"

Carlisle paused for a moment and slouched his shoulders. "I feel like such an idiot now. I'm sorry."

"No, I'M sorry," I apologized and then let myself fall backwards until I was lying on the rock with my legs still dangling over the side. "Good job, Bella. Way to kill the mood," I groaned. Why, oh why, did I have to go and open my stupid mouth like that? Couldn't I have just let him think that I had somehow been demonstrating my sex skills...on a...clarinet...in public?

Carlisle leaned over though and propped an arm on either side of me. "Sounds like we both killed the mood."

I started to nod my head in agreement, but having him lean over me like that, my lust proved to not be completely dead. I could feel the lower part of his torso resting on my hip, and I couldn't help but wish he was lying between my thighs instead. On the off chance that he was feeling the same way, I decided to take a risk.

"Maybe a little mouth-to-mouth will resuscitate it," I replied, lifting my head with the intention of pressing my lips to his.

I missed.

Instead, they landed squarely on his chin. He looked down at me, and I was sure he was about to tell me I was crazy. But he only smiled and leaned down to kiss me back.

It was the kind of kiss that women like me have wet dreams about. His delicious lips were soft and warm against mine-gentle yet firm, and full of the same desire that was coursing through my body. I reached up with one hand and buried my fingers in his blond hair while he plucked my lower lip, sucking it in only to release it, and nipping me slightly. Our tongues tangled and twisted, touching lightly and tentatively before aggressively taking what each of us needed.

It wasn't until Carlisle's mouth started traveling down the side of my neck that I started to notice the pain. As he suckled the flesh where my chin met my throat, it began to intensify. "Wait-stop," I gasped. "Ow."

"What? What's wrong?" he breathed, a look of concern washing over his features.

I grimaced. "I'm sorry, but ow. It's this rock, it's pressing right against the back my head."

"Well, then let's fix that, shall we?" He grinned at me, then sat up and hopped down off of the rock. "Come on," he said, holding his arms out to me. At this point, I was so sexually charged, I'd follow him anywhere. I slid into his waiting arms and wrapped my legs around his waist.

We continued kissing as he carried me between the rocks and then gently set me down. The grass felt even damper than it was when I first came out, but I was beyond caring anymore. He knelt before me and pulled his gray hoodie up and over his head and then tucked it into a ball. Gloriously shirtless, he crawled toward me until I was lying on my back once more and placed it behind my head.

"Much, much better," I smiled, stroking his face as he settled between my legs to pick up our make out session where we'd left off. The initial wave of adrenaline began to wane, so I took the opportunity to just focus on _him._ I loved the way he tasted-salty and tangy, with a faint hint of cologne mixed in whenever I nibbled behind his earlobes or under his chin. My hands finally got to caress the creamy smooth skin of his back, and I could feel every muscle flexing and rolling over me.

It felt so unreal, almost like a dream-fantasies weren't supposed to come true. And yet here we were, acting like unsupervised teenagers in a basement while the adults drink coffee upstairs. Somewhere in there, he managed to peel off and discard my jacket revealing the navy camisole underneath.

Suddenly, he pulled away. "What time is it?!"

Fuck! What time _was_ it? We only had a hour break and only God knew how long we'd been out here dry humping like said teenagers. "I-I-I don't know," I stammered, my heart now racing in a different way. "Shit!" I squinted at the watch on my wrist now centimeters from my eye. Why did it have to be so fucking dark?

"Oh thank God," I heard him say, and I immediately let out a breath when I saw the glow of his cell phone. "We've got just over fifteen minutes left."

We flopped back onto the ground and leaned our backs against one of the tall rocks, panting and laughing. "That was close," I commented fanning my face with my hands.

"No kidding. Whew."

A silence fell over us, and I could feel him staring at me. I hoped he was smiling, too.

"So," I said, not quite sure what to say. "Should we head back or...?"

He responded by wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his chest. "I'm happy to just stay and sit out here a little longer. What do you say?"

"Works for me," I sighed contentedly.

After a few minutes of simple snuggling, I turned to him, suddenly feeling a bit shy. "So, umm, what are you doing after rehearsal?" I asked, tracing the tip of my finger lightly over his calf muscles.

"Teeeeechnically, I'm supposed to get on the charter and head to the hotel with the other dancers."

"Would you be in trouble if you didn't?"

"Not as long as I make my 9:30 call tomorrow morning."

I shifted in his arms until I was straddling him, then placed my hands on each of his shoulders. "Carlisle, if I promise to have you back in time for your call tomorrow morning, would you like to come to my place after rehearsal for a glass of wine, perhaps a little chocolate, and...whatever else we can find to fill the time?"

"I like the sound of that," he said, his breath tickling my cheek before his lips found mine again.

But I wasn't satisfied with just another make-out session. I wanted to give him something to think about for the rest of the evening-a taste, just to let him know what a wild night he was in for.

I broke our kiss and quickly looked around to make sure no one else was near. Satisfied we were safe, I scooted down his body and made my intentions clear.

"What are you-? Oh my God, are you serious?" he asked, his voice rising. "Here?"

"Just say the word, and I'll stop," I replied, running my hand over his...smooth crotch? Wait, what the hell? Equal parts curious and concerned, I continued to touch the fabric of black pants. The bulge was so even and velvety and...completely unnatural. It was like - like he was a Ken doll!

Carlisle started shaking, and I couldn't tell if he was laughing or trying not to cry or what. Finally, he manage to cough out, "It's my dance belt!"

"Your what?"

"My dance belt. It's what male dancers wear to, you know, make everything look...presentable...down there."

"OH, okay. Well, it's coming off!" I grabbed the waistband and gave his pants a downward tug. Damn that fabric was tight, and I couldn't help but laugh when I realized that a dance belt was pretty much just a thong with a lot of padding in the front.

But I could also tell why he needed it. Carlisle was definitely packing some heat. There would be no way to hide that man-snake on stage without assistance. I couldn't _see_ it, but I could _feel_ it. Taking him in my hand, I pumped his thick shaft with slow, steady thrusts as I began licking the soft skin covering his study abdominal muscles. I took my time, gradually moving lower and lower until I was just hovering by his cock. I teased him by lingering there even while his head bobbed near me, then kissed my way downward until I reached his wiry patch of pubic hair and kissed that, too.

When I assaulted Carlisle with my tongue, I wanted him to know how I wanted him, how much my body craved his. Only when I felt that I'd made that perfectly clear did I take the next step and let the head of his cock part my eager lips. I took him into the shallow of my mouth, coming down on it in time with my hand's movements. I started to move a little faster, sliding him into my throat, sucking his cock in deeper with each thrust.

Oh, how I wanted to slow down and make this last, but time wasn't on our side; I knew we had to be getting back inside very, very shortly. I took a breath in through my nose and opened wider, moved faster, sucked harder. Thankfully he was no match for the combined forces of our arousal, and soon his cum was streaming into my mouth. His hips moved involuntarily, thrusting into my throat as he came. I swallowed it all, tonguing his cock from tip to base before I finally pulled away.

My pussy was aching for him to return the favor, but she was just going to have to suck it up and wait. Carlisle was slack against the rock behind him, panting like he'd just run a 10K. Without warning, he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me toward him, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and biting my lip. His mouth moved to my neck and sucked gently, then harder. "Later..." he murmured against my skin.

After another minute or two of rest, we stood; Carlisle dressed himself while I searched for my discarded jacket. I felt giddy, and if the kisses he kept peppering me with were any indication, so was Carlisle.

He hooked his fingers through the belt loop of my blue jeans, and led me back to performance center. Without light and a mirror, it would be impossible to know just how disheveled I might look, but I didn't care - I was completely unabashed about the time we had just spent outside. Despite the blinding lights and curious looks we got as we walked down the hallway, I felt no shame-only pride.

Knowing that it would be waiting for me after this dress rehearsal was over, I took one last look at Carlisle's sweet ass before descending the steps to the orchestra pit.

In more ways than one, I was sure this would be the longest and best night of my life.


End file.
